


Worth Fighting for

by SnailArmy



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, moon war fun times, unsanitary behavior from these disgusting trench boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnailArmy/pseuds/SnailArmy
Summary: alternate title: "How Hard Is It To Get Some Privacy In a Trench"Tim realizes that maybe he thinks of Bertie as a bit more than a best friend. Jonny convinces him to do something about it.
Relationships: Bertie/Gunpowder Tim (The Mechanisms)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	Worth Fighting for

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for mention of homophobia, masturbation, and very unsanitary behavior. 
> 
> What awaits you, boy, out yonder, where the great guns rip and thunder? There's a menace in their message; guns that  
> called you from afar. But where'er your fortunes guide you may no woe or ill betide you; Heaven speed you, little soldier, gaily going to the war.

Tim couldn't sleep. Beside him, in the other cot, private d'Ville lay sleeping. It was too dark to know for sure, but for once in his life he had stopped talking, so Tim felt safe in assuming. The walls of their makeshift tent were thin, and Bertie's gentle singing drifted in to the accompaniment of laser fire and occasional explosions. 

Bertie. Now there was a pretty thought. They had gone to school together and never really gotten along, but when they found themselves assigned to the same unit something clicked into place and they became thick as thieves. Before, Tim thought of him as childish, immature. Here, though, it quickly became clear that Bertie's relentless kindness was a conscious choice made in the face of a painful world. Each day Tim noticed something new about him. His songs, his laugh, his smile. God, that smile; a wide grin, freely given. The shy smirks that he seemed to save just for Tim. The way his lips always looked so soft, despite the rough conditions they lived in. 

It wasn't just his lips. There was the way his eyes lit up in the feeble glow of a shared cigarette. The soft brush of his hands as they passed it back and forth, a silent communion with a god who didn't care if they lived or died. 

He stole a glance at Jonny. He stirred slightly, but his breathing was steady and he seemed to be fast asleep. Tim closed his eyes and slid a hand down his pants. He thought of Bertie - his hands, his lips, even the short buzz of the military crew cut all of them shared. What it would feel like in his hands, brushing against his thighs. The softest sigh escaped his lips as he took himself in hand. 

"That's disgusting." God dammit. D'Ville wasn't asleep after all. Worse, he was still talking. "Didn't take you for a wanker." 

"And I didn't take you for a prude, _d'Ville._ " Tim continued stroking himself, more out of spite than anything else. Conversation with Jonny wasn't exactly arousing, if you'd forgive the pun. 

Jonny scoffed, and was quiet for a moment. Outside, Bertie started in on a second round of the song of the night, TS's wavering soprano joining in after the first line. Tim could almost see him, head held high in defiance. Throat bared to the moon, narrow and perfectly shaped. Tim wondered what it would taste like, how it would feel under his teeth. He moaned despite himself as his hand caught on a sensitive patch of skin. 

"Do you have to do that _here_?" d'Ville asked again, sneer not visible but evident in his voice. 

Tim was, not for the first time, ready to strangle him. "Where the bloody hell _else_ am I going to do it?" 

"I don't care. Go ask TS for help, if you don't mind splinters. Or that other chap - what's his name? Barney? - he seems nice enough, I'm sure he'll give you a hand."

"He's not- I don't-" For once, Tim was glad for the moon tunnels' darkness, so Jonny wouldn't see the blush rising in his cheeks. 

"Oh, struck a nerve, did I?" Jonny shifted in his cot to face Tim, teeth bared in a wicked smile. Tim swore the man was like a shark for his ability to sniff out emotional weakness. 

Tim sighed and removed his hand from his trousers, reaching for something to wipe it off on. "His name is _Bertie,_ , and I know you know it cause you just yelled at him yesterday. And he's not like that. Like me. I'm pretty sure he had a girlfriend in high school." 

"Tim. Tim. Timothy. Timopher. Listen to me." d'Ville's smile dropped in an instant, deadly serious. "There will be no pining in my trench. Do you understand? Under no circumstances will I allow a romantic fucking subplot to interfere with my enjoyment of this war." Tim could hear shuffling as Jonny sat up on the edge of his cot. "You will leave this tent and tell him about your feelings this very instant, or I _will_ piss in your gin rations. For a month." 

"Like it could taste any worse," Tim muttered, but stood up anyway. He fumbled around a bit in the dark before he made his way to the exit. As he pushed open the flap, Jonny called out from behind him. 

"Just remember: it's not gay if it's on the moon!"

Without looking back, Tim flipped him off. 

Outside, the air was colder, the laser shots louder, and the atmosphere just as oppressive. There hadn't been a gas attack in a few days, thank God, but every breath still felt heavy in his lungs. The idea of confessing his feelings was less than appealing, but Jonny d'Ville was not the joking type. Tim shuddered to think of the time they learned that particular lesson. It didn't help that Tim could still hear Bertie singing, a few yards down the trench. 

" _We're here  
because we're here  
because we're here  
because we're here.._"

Not the most creative of their trench songs, but they way he sang it put Tim in mind of a famous opera. Tim had never actually seen an opera, but they were apparently very grand affairs. Maybe he would take Bertie to see one someday, when all of this was over. 

Alright, now he was just stalling. With one last deep exhale, Tim crossed the distance and sat down across from where Bertie stood at watch. He didn't notice him at first, attention focused on the dark wastes of no man's land. Tim took a moment to admire the handsome figure he cut with his rifle at his side. Then he cleared his throat, and Bertie jumped, fumbling for his gun. 

"It's just me, you twat. If it was a Lenny you'd be dead already." 

Bertie grinned, panting slightly with the sudden shock. "Tim! You have to stop sneaking up on me like that. I damn near shot you." 

Tim couldn't help smiling in return. "As if! You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn at ten paces." 

Bertie laughed, bright and unreserved. For a moment they fell into companionable silence. It wasn't until Bertie turned back to watch the tunnels ahead of them that Tim remembered why he had come out here in the first place. 

"Ah, Bertie..." 

Once again, Bertie turned to face him, this time with a shadow of concern over his smile. "Yeah?"

Deep breath in, deep breath out. The worst that could possibly happen was that Bertie didn't return his feelings, was in fact a raging homophobe, and tried to kill him. But Tim could easily take him in hand-to-hand combat. Right. 

"I'm not entirely sure how to say this and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, unless you're somehow a massive bigot in which case you will have larger problems than being uncomfortable, in the sense that I will make your life a living hell, but I don't think that's the case and now I'm rambling."

Deep breath in, deep breath out. The best that could possibly happen? Bertie felt the same way and they have a passionate make out session here in the trench. Maybe do more than make out. Right. 

"I think I'm in love with you." 

If Tim had to name the expression on Bertie's face, it would be "elated." There was no other way to describe the way it lit up his eyes, how his grin was somehow wider than he had ever seen it before. He dropped to his knees in front of him, gun and post forgotten. 

"Holy shit, for real?" 

Tim couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yes, for real, now tell me you're straight so I can go back to the tent and drink away my feelings." 

"Tim, look at me." Gently, Bertie took his hand in his own. Tim felt like he was about to pass out. "Don't _ever_ accuse me of being straight again." With that, he raised Tim's hand to his lips and brushed a gentle kiss along his knuckles. "Thank you for telling me about your feelings. And I'm sorry to crush your dream of being a spurned lover, but... I think I'm in love with you too." 

So far, so good. It was all Tim could do to watch, enraptured, as Bertie released his hand and rocked back from his knees to a crouching position to await Tim's response. He was smiling. 

"Can I kiss you?" 

Bertie didn't bother to answer, just launched himself into Tim's waiting lap and attacked his face like a rabid animal. Their kiss was messy, goofy, and represented everything Tim loved about Bertie. 

Tim broke away first. "As much as I would like to continue doing that," he panted, "you're supposed to be on watch right now and I'm supposed to be sleeping." 

Bertie nodded solemnly, then dove back in for another kiss. 

Eventually they agreed that "not getting killed by moonmen" outweighed "finally getting to kiss the man you've been pining over" and Tim returned to the tent, smile still plastered on his face. Even now, it barely felt real. 

Jonny was sitting on his cot, smoking a cigarette. 

"Well? He shoot your dick off or what?" 

Tim snorted. "Impressive as that would be, you and I both know his aim isn't that good. No, turns out he was having similar thoughts after all. And now... well." 

Jonny groaned and leaned back in his cot. "Gods, don't tell me you two are gonna start snogging or some shit."

"Too late! Already did!" 

Tim wasn't entirely sure what Jonny threw at him, because it missed, but it did hit the ground with a worryingly heavy _thud_. After that he figured it was probably best to drop the subject and try to sleep. 

Sleep came slowly, though, now that there was so much more to think about. The war still sucked, yes, but now that he and Bertie were in it _together_ , it seemed much easier to bear. It almost seemed winnable. It almost felt like they had won already.

**Author's Note:**

> Tim and Bertie: PDA time!  
> Jonny: I Have Made A Terrible Mistake 
> 
> (jonny is wrong it's extra gay if it's on the moon) 
> 
> Oh, and Bertie's Trench Song


End file.
